The Battle for Astodia

by Maryam Durrani

  “The rebels know what I look like. A masquerade would make more sense, so I’m not spotted easily.” I could tell that he wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth closed, working his jaw.

  “You know I’d do anything for you.”

  “So that means . . .?”

  “It means alright, Adalia.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  The dress was made exclusively for me.

  It was a beautiful peacock style dress with a midnight black skirt and a green, jeweled bodice. Multicolored feathers decorated the waist and spread out exquisitely throughout the skirt, fading into the folds and colors. My mask was handmade, with a few feathers decorating the black edges and sharp angles outlining a small beak. The shoes were spectacular; an ebony color with emerald jewels, explicitly fashioned to match the dress. The masterpiece sparkled from a mile away, with jewels gently dabbed at the corners of my eyes.

  TWENTY TWO

  My hair was braided and pinned into a bun, two thin locks of curled dark hair framing my face where they tickled my jaw.

  The final touch was slipping on the mask.

  “You look . . .” The handmaiden trailed off.

  “Normal?” I offered, adjusting the corset that was squeezing the breath out of me.

  “Yes—I mean . . .” She snapped out of her daze suddenly. “I meant—beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  I watched through as the carriages rolled in outside, handsome men and beautiful women of all positions entering the castle. I slipped on my elbow length black gloves and smiled at myself in the mirror, turning to the hairdresser. “What’s your name?” I asked while rummaging through my wardrobe.

  “Kinsey,” she said with a smile.

  “Well then, Miss Kinsey, take this.” I tossed her a lilac dress decorated with beautiful fuchsia flowers, and a pair of shoes to match. “Find a mask,” I told her.

  “But—”

  “Wear it. No one will know it’s you, and if they do, they’ll have to go through me before they say anything.”

  “Oh, thank you so much!” she squealed. She held the dress to her heart as I slipped out the room, making my way down the marble steps where everyone had gathered, men and women, dancing and laughing. Drinks of every kind decorated polished tables, delicacies from all kingdoms set neatly beside them.

  I descended the steps as cautiously as I could, keeping my eyes on the steps below. I took a chance and looked up. My eyes immediately landed on Xavier, and I felt my heartbeat accelerate. There I stood, stunned, forgetting that people were watching me. I froze, behaving as if I was seeing him for the very first time. He looked as handsome as a prince should’ve been. His beautiful honey eyes peered at me through the black mask. It would’ve been better if he just took it off.

  His watchful gaze fell on me, granting my wish he removed his plain black mask, his lips forming into a sly smile. I swallowed and took a breath. Today was the day I saw him in a way I’d never looked at him before. He always dressed up, but this was different. He approached the steps and held out his arm which I took easily, and he swept me into the crowd.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, taking my dress in. I rolled my eyes, even though I was flattered. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Everyone is watching, so don’t do anything to make me look bad.”

  “How would I make you look—” I couldn’t finish before he spun me around and I almost tripped over my feet. The corners of his lips turned up in a smile. “By the way,” I found myself saying, “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

  We danced for a long time in silence until Xavier had to leave to attend to the long lines of princesses and ladies waiting for him. I recognized Princess Zinovia from Crea, who

  was here without the king and queen.

  He kissed my hand, his lips lingering longer than necessary, and winked as he left. “Stay out of trouble,” he called, disappearing into the crowds.

  I reached up to make sure my mask was in place as I received questioning glares and looks from women vying for Xavier’s attention.

  I rolled my eyes and lifted my skirt slightly, slipping through the groups of people.

  As I exited the grand ballroom, someone gripped my arm, pulling me into a corner. In a flash, I had my knife at his throat, pressing the blade into his skin.

  “Get off of me,” the male voice whispered back with an equal amount of force. “It’s me, Hunter.”

  “Adalia,” someone whispered in my ear.

  I spun around. “Lance?” I whispered.

  Lance was dressed in gray, his light hair gelled back, a smile on his face. The cut above his eye was stitched neatly, and he stood tall as he took me in.

  “You look ravishing,” he said with a grin, his bright green eyes taking in my appearance. There was a splotch of purple above his right cheekbone, and I tried to divert my gaze from his swollen lower lip. The guards had really injured him.

  “Well then,” Hunter said gruffly, rolling his eyes. “Are you ready?” I nodded. We began moving through the corridors, slipping past guards. The king had strict orders not to let anyone leave the ballroom since there were rebels planted all over the castle.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” someone called out, and the three of us froze.

  “Don’t move,” I whispered through clenched teeth. “Don’t

  move at all. Maybe he won’t see us then.”

  Hunter snorted.

  “Who goes there?”

  “Yes?” I found myself saying. I turned to face the guard who was approaching us, and I took off my mask.

  “Oh, it’s . . . you,” he said, taking a step back. “My apologies.” His eyes fell on a masked Hunter and Lance and he frowned. “If you don’t mind, I’ll have to ask them to take off their masks. The king’s orders are stringent.”

  “They’re with me,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “But—” he paused, peering closely at Lance. “Where have you come from?”

  “Trella,” Lance said smoothly. Oh, no.

  “The people of Trella were not invited to this ball, sir.” The man pulled out his sword. “Show me your invitations.”

  Lance reached up, slowly taking the mask off. I swallowed, hoping the guard wouldn’t recognize him.

  That didn’t work out too well.

  “You . . . you’re the boy!” He pointed at Lance’s face. “The hostage the king ordered. What are you doing out of—”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you going to do now?”

  “The king gave no such orders to have the hostage out of his cell.”

  “But I have ordered it. Are you questioning my decisions?” I asked compellingly.

  “Of course not,” he shook his head hurriedly. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to report this to the king—I’m sure you know.”

  “No, you won’t have to report anything,” I said with a sweet smile.

  I rolled up my skirt, pulling out the knife I’d strapped to

  my calf. I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, pushing him to the ground. “Run!” I yelled, giving Lance and Hunter a head-start as I knocked the guard out. I saw another guard turn around and shout something to his comrades. Knowing it was over for me, I turned and started to run, hitching up my skirts as I went. It was at these moments when I appreciated being taught to run in heels. I followed Lance who ran as fast as his legs could possibly carry him.

  “Halt!”

  “Get them!”

  “Rebels in the castle!”

  I was in the front now, when suddenly we turned into a hall where four guards had appeared, yanking out their swords.

  “What now?” Lance asked, stopping abruptly, his breath coming in sharply.

  “We have no choice but to fight,” I said, surprising Hunter as I punched the guard’s neck, sending him toppling to the ground. The next one was easy; dodge the blade, duck, spin around and jam the elbow to the nose. He stumbled back and then Hunter slid out his
sword, slamming the base into the guard’s stomach. I nodded at him, stepping back, when Lance ran out and slammed his boot against the third guard’s fingers, making him drop the sword. As the two of them took on the guard, I sensed a movement behind me, whipping around just in time to find a blade inches away from my shoulder. I ducked, my leg lashing out to kick him off balance. On its way down, the blade pierced the skin of my arm.

  “Damn,” I whispered under my breath, gripping the fresh wound to staunch the bleeding. I kicked his chest, leaving the guard breathless and wounded on the floor.

  “Adalia, are you okay?” Lance asked, punching the last guard across his jaw.

  “It’s not deep. I’ll be fine,” I assured them, pulling up my skirts. I walked fast, keeping my breathing even.

  “Where are we going?” Lance asked, following close behind.

  I gave him a devious smile. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

  The height made my breath catch at my throat, even though I was the one that had brought them here.

  It was dark, the stars giving us light. A cold breeze rippled through our clothes, making us shiver.

  A long swirl of stairs descended to the ground far below, but these were no ordinary stairs. They were dangerously thin and the width was the smallest a person could possibly fit on. The rail on the side was just a cylindrical wire that was up there for show, so the only support you had was to lean against the castle wall on the other side where the old, rusted, wiry stairs were built into. There was a stop halfway down where two other sets of stairs met; those a little less dangerous. This wasn’t meant for everyday use. This was for an escape, connecting to the highest tower in the castle.

  “Once we get down, you two run,” I ordered over the wind.

  “What about you?” Lance asked.

  “I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me, and do not come back.”

  Lance turned me to face him. “If they catch you, they’ll kill you.”

  “I can handle them,” I said, looking down and making a

  huge mistake. The ground was far below my feet, making me dizzy.

  “I’m not leaving you,” Lance said, shaking his head, his green eyes concerned. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “It has to be this way. It doesn’t even matter, Lance. As long as get you out of here.”

  “Is this . . . is this because you feel guilty?”

  “I owe you. I brought you here.”

  “That doesn’t matter to me. I thought you were doing this because. . .” He fell silent, as if trying to find the right words.

  “He’s trying to say he thought you cared about him,” Hunter said in an annoyed tone. “Get it over with; we have guards chasing us.”

  “What?” I said in disbelief. “Why do you think I saved you?”

  “Hunter did, you mean,” Lance interjected.

  I was taken aback. I had just risked my life, my position, for him. I felt myself becoming angry.

  Before I could reply, the warning bells tolled. Screams filled the night and I almost tripped down the stairs so quickly I lost all of my breath, gripping the wiry rail.

  “Run!” Hunter yelled at Lance, who was already making his way down the steps. “I’ll hold them off.”

  Hunter pulled away from me and threw a punch at a dark

  shape behind me, knocking it off balance and sending it teetering off the edge of the stairs.

  “Run!” he repeated, throwing me a glance back.

  I pulled my dress up to my knees, running down the stairs. As Lance caught up to the stopping point where the two other staircases met, Lance stopped abruptly. He gripped my arm.

  “Look.”

  I shifted my gaze to the bottom of the steps where an army of guards where making their way up.

  “We’re trapped.” Lance turned to me. “Any ideas?”

  I couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m thinking.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lance apologized. “For what I said. I should’ve—”

  “No time for confessions!” Hunter shouted.

  “We have no chance anyway,” Lance said, pulling me close. “Let’s just say goodbye now.”

  “Wait! What’s that?” I pointed at the leader of the mob who had stopped at the small platform where the other sturdier staircases connected. Peering closer, I made out that the leader was none other than—

  “Xavier!” I gasped. Relief washed over me as I saw the dark shape of his body move towards us.

  “I see them!” Xavier announced, and my stomach dropped. Dread replaced the feeling of relief. I knew where his loyalties laid. There was no point in hoping. “Split up. They must have reached the bottom by now.”

  The mob split as they marched up the opposite stairs and Xavier walked up the stairs slowly, towards us.

  “He’s going to find us,” I whispered.

  “Well, if he does, we have to take him with us. In chains,” Hunter said.

  “No!” I objected. “You will not touch him.”

  Lance set his jaw. There was no time to argue. Suddenly, Xavier pointed towards us. Lance scowled.

  “Your prince is going to get all of us killed.”

  “Quiet!” I hissed. “What is he doing?”

  Xavier sheathed his sword and started walking up towards us, until we could see his face clearly and he could see ours.

  We stood up.

  “Xavier,” I begin, but he raised a hand for silence. I shut my mouth.

  “I have no clue what the hell you were thinking,” he said, shaking his head, “but I don’t exactly care at the moment because my anger will not help with anything now. You might be an assassin, but you’ve become a fool.”

  “Turn me in, but let them go.”

  “You’re dear to me, Adalia,” he said. “I can still help you—we can say it was someone else. But you have to bring him back,” Xavier said, gesturing towards Lance.

  “I can’t do that.”

  Xavier sighed. “I’ll help you, but after this, you’re on your own. You’ve made your decision. You know my father.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  TWENTY THREE

  “Watch your step,” Xavier said. As we jumped off, Xavier pulled me against the wall. “I have to go now. If I’m caught here I’ll be deemed as a traitor and then I’ll never see you again,” he nodded at me. “If you come with me now, I can help clear your name. You will not be associated with the hostage.” He had me under his careful gaze, as he had all those years ago under that tree when I’d run away.

  “I can’t, Xavier,” I said quietly. “There is something I have to do, and for that I have to turn myself in.” I had to confront the king about everything he had done to me, the monster he had created.

  His eyes were sad. “Please, Adalia. Please. Come with me.” He held out a hand.

  “I’ll be back,” I said with a smile. I took his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “You need to return to the ball. The princesses will be missing you.”

  Xavier cracked a smile. “Of course.” I let my hand drop to my side.

  “Go.”

  He nodded. My heart ached.

  “Stay safe, dear Adalia.” He turned around and I watched him disappear around the side. By this time, everyone would know it was me. Adalia the Assassin, traitor to the kingdom. I could almost hear the whispers passing through the towns, “The king’s most trusted assassin, hung for treachery, risking her life for a rebel.”

  I gathered my skirts. It was worth it. Probably the first and last good thing I’d ever done for someone.

  As I made my way to the gates that shut unwanted visitors out of the courtyard, it started to rain. I had to get into the castle. The bell tolled again, signaling a large threat to the kingdom.

  Rain started to pour. My hair was undone now, my cold, wet dress pulling me back.

  “Lance should be long gone by now,” I whispered over the loud, pounding rain. I approached the entrance to the castle, and did so
mething I hoped Lance—and Xavier—would forgive me for.

  I shouted for the guards.

  After that, gloved hands clamped down on my arms.

  “Get your hands off me,” I hissed. “I’m turning myself in.” I ripped myself from their grasps. “Take me to the king.”

  As we walked through the hallways, a painting caught my eye. It was a beautiful piece of art that I had never seemed to pay attention to before. It was the queen when she was young, painted before her death. “I hope you approve, Your Majesty,” I whispered as we passed her.

  One of the guards slammed their fists against the doors to the throne room. “We have the traitor!” the guard announced, pushing the doors open and tossing me in. I landed on my knees, suddenly feeling vulnerable. This was how Lance must’ve felt.

  I could feel his eyes on me. Hatred bubbled inside me, be-

  cause he was the one that had made me what I was.

  “I didn’t believe it was you at first,” he said, his voice cold. “But now you’re in front of me, and there is one thing I can’t help but do, which is wonder. Why?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Why?” he bellowed, his voice booming, echoing off the walls.

  “Because I wanted to,” I said through gritted teeth. “I don’t take orders from you anymore.”

  “You filthy traitor,” he spat. “Why would you help a single boy and put your life on the line?”

  “This is not about him, and you know it.” This wasn’t as difficult as I thought, even though I knew my hours were numbered. He waited for me to go on. “Tell me why you chose me.”

  “You know the story.”

  “The story is a lie. Everything is a lie,” I gritted out. I pushed the guards away, getting to my feet. Cold water droplets clung to my skin, the icy dress wrapped around my body. A puddle of water was beginning to form around me, my hair hanging in clumps around my face.

  “I thought you were strong. I thought I could invest my time and energy in you and create a weapon stronger than any other—apparently, I was wrong.”